


Not A Chance

by Listenerofshadows



Series: Sander Sides One-Shots [7]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Gen, Logan and Patton are minor characters, Platonic Prinixety, Roman is a Dramatic Boi, Virgil is an Anxious Boi, What else is new?, anxiety mention, self-deprecation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-30
Updated: 2018-06-30
Packaged: 2019-05-30 21:01:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15104801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Listenerofshadows/pseuds/Listenerofshadows
Summary: Virgil doesn’t dance. At least not compared to the likes of Roman, whose practically the embodiment of a Disney prince. That’s why he dances in his room by himself where no one can judge him and his terrible dancing.





	Not A Chance

**Author's Note:**

> Anon on Tumblr: "Headcannon: Virgil sometimes dances around his room when he’s listening to music and nobody else is around."
> 
> My sincerest apologies to the dear Anon that sent this to my inbox, four months ago when I had my 100 Follower celebration for my Tumblr. In any case, this was such a fun thing to write and a great reprieve from my big bang project so thank you for sending this to my Tumblr, and I hope you get a chance to read this.

“You can’t be serious!”

“I am.”

“You don’t like dancing? At all?”

“I don’t dance.” He affirmed, scowling as he crossed his arms against his chest.

“I know you can.” Roman said in a singsong fashion.

Virgil raised an eyebrow, “Why do I have a feeling that’s a reference to some obscure musical?”

He could never tell when Roman was just being his overly-flamboyant self or when he was actually quoting something. It certainly sounded familiar, however.

Roman gave a dramatic gasp, a hand flailing upwards towards his forehead.

“Obscure musical? ObSCURE MUSICAL?!” He screeched in disbelief, falling backwards onto the couch where Logan sat. The latter, used to Roman’s antics, sighed as he raised the book he was reading just as Roman’s head rested onto his lap.

“Roman, please. I’m trying to read here.”

“Did you not hear what he said?” Roman said, pausing for a moment as he sat up, “Well, of course you wouldn’t understand, Einstein.”

“What’s with all the commotion?” Patton asked, grinning as he brought in a fresh plate of chocolate chip cookies from the kitchen.

“It’s a travesty, Patton. An outrage!” Roman made a beeline for the platter of cookies and picked one up, “He called High School Musical 2 an ‘obscure musical!’”

Cookie in hand, he used it to point accusingly at Virgil like one of his sabers. Virgil considered taking a bite out of the cookie just to get a reaction from Roman. Knowing Patton wouldn’t find it funny, he instead grabbed a cookie of his own to nibble on.

“Well it kinda is,” Virgil said, taking a bite into chocolatey goodness, “I mean, it wasn’t even on Broadway, right?”

“It is a Pop Culture icon, Virgil!” Roman huffed, “I suppose you know nothing about it, since you only listen to your PG 13 rated music.”  
  
“Hey, that’s not fair, I don’t only listen to that type of music,” Virgil mumbled.

Roman perked up, “What was that?”

“I said, I listen to some musicals!” Virgil turned away, face blushing, as he shoved the rest of his cookie into his mouth.

“Really?” Roman asked skeptically.

“Yes really,” Virgil smirked, “I mean, c’mon, even you have to admit there’s some dark crap that goes on in musicals. Like Heathers or Sweeney Todd.”

Roman’s lips twisted upwards.

“I suppose you have me there, Sweeney Downer,” Roman relented, “but surely you can’t have a musical appreciation and not be compelled to move to the rhythm of the beat.”

Dang, he’d hoped that Roman had forgotten about that matter completely.

“Sorry to disappoint, princey, but I don’t dance—not a chance.” Virgil said, thanking Patton for the cookies as he scooped up two more and walked off.

“So you do know the song after all!” Roman screeched after him.

A loud, raucous cackle echoed in the hallways.

 

* * *

 

 

Virgil didn’t dance. Not when compared to the likes of Roman. He understood it. Roman, after all, was Thomas’ creativity, all his hopes and dreams. He was the ego—brash and confident in ways that Virgil could never be. While Roman feinted off his boundless energy with daring quests to save damsels from the Dragon Witch, Virgil preferred to snuggle up in a blanket and listen to music.

It wasn’t just that, of course. Dancing had always been Thomas’ weak point in theatre, and Virgil suffered with the same struggle. He still enjoyed dancing despite it. He just preferred to enjoy it from within the comforts of his room, away from peering eyes.

Yes, he knew by now that the others wouldn’t tease him for his lack of coordination. But as the literal embodiment of anxiety, it was hard convincing himself otherwise. What if Roman teased him relentlessly about his atrocious dancing skills? That was the last thing Virgil needed.

He chose to keep to the confines of his room, where his audience was an assortment of stuffed animals. Several of them being gifts from Patton. He didn’t dance often, only when he felt his heartbeat racing. It made him want to punch a wall, and since punching walls hurt a lot, dancing was a better alternative. He lost himself in the music, as he physically projected what the music meant to him.

A few weeks after the exchange with Roman, Virgil found himself in such an occasion once more. Virgil took a deep breath before pressing play on his iPod, waiting for the vocals to start. As the singer’s wistful voice started, he moved. He channeled the subject of the song; a young girl wishing to escape her harsh reality through dreams.

He twirled and spun, jumped and leapt and he didn’t stop dancing until the song ended. Afterwards, he collapsed onto the ground in smiling, sweaty heap.

“So you  _can_ dance!” A triumphant voice exclaimed.

Standing at the doorway, hands on his hips, was Roman. He looked beyond thrilled by this discovery.

Virgil shot up from the floor, stumbling over to his iPod to shut off the next song.

“What are you doing here?” He demanded.

Virgil couldn’t believe he forgot to lock his door or the fact he didn’t even hear Roman open the door. Had he even knocked? Or did Roman intended to burst through his door with exciting idea and instead caught him in the act?

Roman’s smile slipped from his face, “Easy, there. Padre sent me here to tell you that dinner’s ready. I guess you were so busy dancing up a storm that you didn’t hear me knocking!”

Virgil groaned, “Just get on with it, already.”

“Get on with what?” Roman asked, his eyebrows furrowing with concern.

“You know,” He gestured with his hand, “tell me how much my dancing sucks.”

“Virgil, what?” Roman blinked, “your dancing doesn’t suck, it was magnificent!”

“C’mon, you don’t have to act like it’s good when it’s not; I can take the heat.” Virgil refused to make eye contact with him.

A hand softly rested on his shoulder, “Virgil, look at me.”

He sighed and complied, startled to see an unusually grave expression on Roman’s face.

“I promise on my honor as a prince that I meant it when I said you were magnificent.”

“You mean it?” Virgil asked, anxiety gnawing at his insides.

“Of course.”

“Thanks, I guess.” Virgil swallowed, unsure how to handle the compliment. Their relationship was built off of banter and witty remarks. Not…whatever this was.

“Virgil why didn’t you tell me you actually enjoyed dancing?” Roman hesitated, “were you afraid of me…making fun of you?”

He stood there not at all like a dashing, confident prince but more like a kicked puppy with that pitiful expression of his.

“Yeah,” Virgil admitted, “I just figured…you’d tease me about it.”

“I know you had good reason to assume that considering how I treated you wrongly in the past, but know this,” Roman drew a breath in, “I would never tease you for something like this. I can see dancing is a passion for you—a dream! And I don’t destroy dreams, I help nourish them!”

“Is this your way of offering me a dance lesson?”

“Only if you want one.”

Virgil snorted, “Wow, gee thanks, Roman. First you say my dancing’s great and then you offer to teach me. Which is it?”

Roman spluttered, “I do mean it! That your dancing is great, that is! I just—I just thought—”

“Relax, I get what you mean. I was just messing with you.” Virgil bumped his shoulder with Roman’s in a friendly manner as he strode past him, “We should get going to dinner. Patton and Logan are probably wondering what’s going on.”

“Er, of course. Onwards, we go!” Roman recomposed himself before following after him.

“And Roman?” Virgil turned back to look at him, “I think…I might just take you up on that dancing lesson after all.”


End file.
